Everyday horrors: how Bartees Strange found himself amidst the darkness
You can stop the “record cover of the year” sweepstakes right now because Bartees Strange has it in the bag. The sleeve for his third album is absolutely unforgettable. Strange stands unsmiling, clad in a flowing, night-black dress and white sunglasses, arm raised as if in a waltz. The only things visible amongst the gloom of the backdrop lit in queasy green and stark red, are deep in the background, two glowing red orb-like eyes in the darkness. At the very top of the cover, in almost exactly the same font used for the poster of Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula, is the record’s title: Horror.
It’s a cover that promises so much. It’s theatrical, camp, unsettling and yet still beautiful. Fortunately, the record within delivers on that promise, but not in the way one might think. On looks alone, one might assume this to be an album of stark Siouxsie Sioux and Savages-esque post-punk, but you’d be wrong.
The record is just as lush, diverse and effortlessly catchy as his previous albums. Veering from the emo thrills of ‘Wants Needs’ to the atmospheric, folky trip-hop of ‘Doomsday Buttercup’ via the delicious funk-rock strut of ‘Hit It Quit It’. This is because Strange, or Bartees Cox to his mum, isn’t just a fan of horror stories but someone who genuinely understands their appeal. He understands that horror isn’t just one big block that has to be delivered a certain way, which mirrors the rich tapestry of influences that make up his music.
This is a man who has played in hardcore bands, taught himself hip-hop production and has spoken openly about far-off plans to release a full-on country album. This isn’t hubris, either. He’s no dilettante, and those records will hit just as hard as anything else he’s made. Above all, though, he knows how one can find strength from them.
How does Bartees Strange find strength in Horror?
In an interview with Rolling Stone, Strange said, “I was always kind of a nervous kid. I grew up with all the stories of my parents’ upbringing in the South, and they started to prepare me and my brother and sister for a similar life. I started watching horror movies as a way to train myself to be good at being scared. Then I fell in love with them.” This is where the record’s title is most applicable, where the titular horror comes from its lyrical content, which is often genuinely harrowing.
The album’s fourth track, ‘Baltimore’, begins with Strange singing: “When I think about places I could live / I wonder if one’s good enough to raise a few Black kids.” It’s become the most quoted lyric from the album for very good reason. It’s plainly stated and unadorned because what level of poetry could add to the sentiment? It deserves that level of factuality because those are still the facts of African-American life in the year of our lord 2025, and it’s reflected in so many other parts of the record.
’17’ sees Strange sing, “The first time that I felt impending doom / Was realizing I’m too black for the room.” ‘Wants Needs’ finds Strange trying to push back, hollering, “I’ve tried to be grateful for living / While punching the top of a coffin.” At no point, though, does this turn the record dour or joyless though. After all, this is arguably where the themes of fear and the strength that can come from facing them are best deployed. By being the lyrical thrust of the record, it comes packaged with arguably Bartees’ most valuable, certainly most versatile weapon, that shape-shifting Howitzer of a voice.
This combination makes Horror a gigantic leap forward in a career made up almost entirely of gigantic leaps forward. His previous albums, 2020’s Live Forever and 2022’s Farm to Table, were some of the best in their respective years, but they almost felt more like calling cards for his talents—a demo reel of what he was capable of. To be clear, his is a talent that more than deserves that treatment, but Horror feels more like a cohesive whole than either of them.
After all, who isn’t scared to wake up in the morning these days? Most fear the end of the week, or even just the day, let alone the end of the year. Yet the power of this record is best summed up by Bartees himself on the phenomenal closing track ‘Backseat Banton’. We’re all scared these days, but remember, “Being scared has made me bigger now / Bigger than I was”.
